


Hank Summers Gets his Comeuppance

by maryperk



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:15:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryperk/pseuds/maryperk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Unless, it doesn’t.</p>
<p>Written for Spikeslovebite.  Love ya, Tam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

Hank Aaron Summers had no idea how he ended up in a small Mexican village without his pants and in the company of cross dressing midgets riding on goats while his secretary-slash-lover was off being wooed by a famous Hollywood starlet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

It all started in Las Vegas where Hank ran into his oldest daughter and her bleached blond Goth-like boyfriend. Hank was in town attending a business conference with a side of gambling. He was in the middle of a small cigarette break away from the blackjack table when it happened.

“That’s the last one,” Buffy said over her shoulder. She stepped out into the alley from the back door of the building next to the casino. “Are you sure your source wasn’t pulling your leg, Spike?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Spike growled. He followed Buffy out into the alley. “And I’ll have you know I was the one doin’ the leg pullin’, luv. I pulled that bloke’s leg right off and beat him soundly with it.”

Hank expected his prissy daughter to be disgusted by the pale skinned, pale haired weirdo’s words. Boy, was he surprised by her actual reaction.

“Maybe you need to go pull off the other leg and beat him again.”

“Buffy?” Hank dropped his cigarette, and he stepped towards his daughter.

Buffy jerked her head in his direction. “Dad?” Her voice filled with surprise.

Hank shivered when Spike’s cold blue eyes gave him the once over before dismissing him as unimportant in the scheme of things. He felt a shaft of anger over the man’s reaction that in some way he, Hank Aaron Summers, had been measured and found lacking. 

What right did some little punk have to judge him?

Buffy looked back and forth between Spike and Hank. Then, she got a big, fake smile on her face. “So, Dad, long time, no see.”

“What are you doing in Vegas?” Hank asked. “Are your mother and Dawn here with you and your boyfriend?” He gave the punk another once over. “Does she even know you’re dating him?”

Spike gave Buffy’s father an incredulous look. “You don’t check your messages very often, do you, pillock?” He stepped towards Hank in a menacing manner.

“Spike, don’t.” Buffy laid a hand on Spike’s sleeve. “He’s so not worth the headache you’ll get.”

“That’s a matter of personal opinion, pet,” Spike replied.

“Mom didn’t have as many issues with Spike as you’d think, Dad,” Buffy said. 

“Why are you speaking about Joyce in past tense, Buffy?”

Buffy took a deep breath through her nose. “Mom died in February. Like Spike said, if you checked your messages once in a while you’d know that.”

“How? When? What about Dawnie? How?” Hank asked in a rush.

“Look, Dad. Spike and I need to finish our business. Can we meet later for dinner?” Buffy gave an exasperated wave towards Hank.

Hank glared at Buffy for putting his questions off. “Fine, we’re staying here.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the casino. “We’ll be in the restaurant at ten p.m.”

“Fine. Let’s go, Spike. We’ll have to find what we’re looking for the old fashioned way.” Buffy nodded at Hank before she turned away. “How much cash do you have on you?”

“Not nearly enough, luv,” Spike replied. 

Hank watched his oldest daughter walk away from him still discussing how she was going to find whatever the hell she was looking for with her punk companion. He turned towards the back door of the casino. It was time to go confront his secretary, Jennifer, about why he hadn’t gotten any messages from his daughter in the past few months. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Hank stepped into his hotel. “Jennifer, dear? Are you here?”

“Right here, Hankie poo.” Jennifer came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. When she saw the look on Hank’s face, she was prompted to ask in her annoying child-like voice, “What’s wrong?”

“Did either of my daughters call in February?”

“Hankie poo, you know I was on vacay for most of February,” Jennifer said. She moved to her suitcase where she pulled out a bra and panty set. “That was when Starla was filling in for me.”

Hank remembered Starla vividly. She hadn’t been much of secretary, but, damn, if she hadn’t been a great little cocksucker. “Why would Starla not tell me that my daughter had called?”

“Starla was never the brightest crayon in the Crayola box,” Jennifer said while she stepped into her panties. She shrugged the bra straps over her shoulders, and she clipped the front enclosure. “She’s probably that gray crayon you use to color in rain clouds.”

“And yet, you recommended her for the job?” Sarcasm dripped from Hank’s words.

Jennifer moved to the closet where she pulled out a bright red dress. “Working for you isn’t all that complicated, Hankie poo. “ She turned to look at Hank. Her voice lost all of the childishness when she spoke again. “Take a little dictation, book your flights and hotel rooms, give your clients the run around when they call, and give you a blowjob once in a while. A trained monkey could do my job.”

Hank let out an angry breath of air. “My ex-wife died in February, Jennifer. That’s what my daughter called to say, and that fucking stupid bitch either lost the message or threw it away.”

“It’s not like you would have called your daughter back,” Jennifer said. She stepped into her dress. “Now, I have a date.”

“A date?” Hank spluttered.

“Since when were we exclusive?” Jennifer slipped on her heels before she crossed the room for her purse. “Besides, there is no way I’m going to pass up meeting up with Rebecca Lowell. She’s my favorite actress ever! She’s so beautiful and talented ...”

Hank tuned Jennifer out to get lost in his own thoughts. He started to calculate what kind of advantages he could garner by having a child. There were some deals that he wasn’t a part of because he wasn’t a family man. Having custody of Dawn would solve that issue. True, he hadn’t seen Dawn in a couple of years, but he was sure the courts would consider him a better guardian than Buffy. All he had to do was plan everything right, and he’d be living on easy street with the bosses.

Jennifer rolled her eyes at her boss. She knew he planning something really stupid, and she didn’t want any part of it. Little did Hank Summers realize that her resignation letter was residing in his email at that very moment. All she needed to find was a new lover to take care of her. “Idiot,” she whispered under her breath while she slipped out the hotel room door.

Hank didn’t even notice when Jennifer left. If he planned the dinner session with Buffy and her punk boyfriend right, he’d have custody of Dawn before midnight. Hank rubbed his hands together in anticipation. 

Life was going Hank’s way for a change.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hank walked into the hotel restaurant.

Alone.

That was something Hank hadn’t planned on. He’d been prepared to show his daughters a united front with Jennifer by his side. That would have to happen later. Maybe he’d even ask Jennifer to marry him. The courts would like that.

“Smoking or non-smoking?” The hostess appeared at Hank’s elbow carrying a menu. The tag on her shirt read ‘Tilda’.

“I’m meeting my daughters for dinner,” Hank replied.

“Are you Hank Summers?”

Hank nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“Oh, right this way, your daughter told me you would be here.” Tilda waved her hand towards the back of the restaurant. “If you’ll follow me.”

At the door of the private dining room, Tilda handed Hank the menu before she asked, “Can I have your waiter bring you something to drink?”

“Gin and tonic,” Hank stated. He turned away from the hostess, and he pushed the door to the private room open.

“Hey, Dad.” Buffy nodded to her father. “Come sit down, and I’ll introduce you to our friends.”

Dawn gave Hank a small nod. “Oh, you made it after all,” she said before turning her attention to the mousy brunette beside her.

Hank sneered when Buffy did nothing to reign in Dawn’s contempt. He’d be teaching his youngest a lesson in manners as soon as she stepped inside his house. He’d never been able to do that with Buffy because Joyce had always stood in his way. So, he’d always had to pretend to indulge her.

The bleached blond punk sneered in return as if he knew what Hank was thinking. Hank took a seat next to an older man.

“I’m Rupert Giles,” the man introduced himself. 

“You the punk’s father?” Hank pointed his menu at Spike. He pulled a chair out, and he settled himself, ready to do battle.

Everyone else at the table let out a bark of laughter, even Buffy gave a lop-sided smile.

“Oh, that makes me the tarty stepmom.” A strawberry blond woman beside Mr. Giles laid her hand on his arm, and she grinned up into his face. “However, I really must ask for a divorce, Rupert. I have found my true love right here.” She abandoned Mr. Giles for the dark haired young man sitting on her other side.

Buffy rolled her eyes at her friends. “Okay, Dad, Giles already introduced himself. Beside him is Anya Jenkins who isn’t married to him, but she’s really engaged to Xander Harris who is on her other side. Beside Dawn are Tara Maclay and Willow Rosenberg. You met Spike earlier.”

“You allow your sister to associate with these …” Hank waved his hand at Giles and Anya. “… immoral people?”

“Oh, don’t be a hypocrite, Dad,” Dawn said in a disgusted voice. “You were having an affair with that Jennifer person for years before Mom divorced you. Besides, the whole tarty stepmom thing is an inside joke. Spike and Giles aren’t related, they’re just British together.”

“That Jennifer person is going to be your stepmother,” Hank replied. “You will treat her with the respect she deserves.” The marriage proposal wasn’t the truth, of course. However, Hank was completely sure that once he asked Jennifer to marry him she would jump at the chance. Despite his secretary’s earlier words, he was sure that she was completely infatuated with him.

“Whatever.” Dawn rolled her eyes before she turned to her sister. “Buffy, why is he here? We haven’t seen him in two years. He doesn’t pay child support anymore even though he’s supposed to, and he ignored you when Mom died.”

Hank growled under his breath. “I did not ignore you when your Mother died. Jennifer was on vacation, and the temp somehow misplaced your messages. She was a stupid bimbo anyway.” He ignored the looks of disgust that Buffy’s friends gave him. 

Hank needed to be careful not to spill his plan too soon. It wouldn’t do if Buffy absconded with Dawn.

“Okay, fine,” Buffy said. “Your temp lost the messages. So, now you know. Mom’s dead.”

“How did Joyce die?”

“She had a brain tumor, which was operated on,” Giles said with cool efficiency. “However a few weeks into her recovery, she had a brain aneurism at the site of her surgery. The doctor informed us that she died instantly and felt no pain.”

“Buffy is the one that found her,” Anya piped up. “It was all very traumatic and orgasm inhibiting.”

“Buffy wasn’t playing checkers then. Riley had flown off to Belgravia just before Mom died,” Dawn said.

Spike tilted his head, and he rubbed his chest just over his heart. “I thought it was Brazil where Captain Cardboard winged off to.”

“Bagdad?” Xander asked.

“You’re all wrong,” Willow laughed. “He went to Belize.”

Dawn shrugged. “I was close.”

Hank smirked to himself. He was sure he’d be able to prove to the courts that Buffy’s friends were detrimental to Dawn’s wellbeing. After all, the one bitch had talked about sex in front of the entire table. 

Tilda appeared at Hank’s elbow with his drink. “Your server today will be Ford. He will be in shortly to check on you.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said.

Hank took a sip of his drink, and he leaned back in his chair. He could eat dinner any time. Right now it was time to put his plan into action. Hank was quite sure he could make Buffy doubt herself enough to sign Dawn over to him by the end of the evening. “You know, Buffy, you’re so young to have such responsibility. Dawn would be better off with me and Jennifer. We can provide her with a stable life.”

“What are you talking about? Dawn’s life is perfectly stable,” Buffy declared.

“Dawn should be in school, not running around Vegas with a bunch of punks.” Hank lifted his glass towards Spike. “Or old perverts like Rupert here.”

“I say!” Giles grunted. “I am not an old pervert.”

“You’re hanging around people half your age. I think I know what a pervert is,” Hank replied. He took another sip of his drink.

“Well, Daddy Dearest, Jennifer is half your age. So, I guess it’s ‘takes one to know one’, huh?” Dawn glared at her father.

“I am not a pervert!”

“All British men are perverts.” Hank pointed at Spike. “I bet he’s a pervert too.”

“Neither Giles nor Spike are perverts,” Buffy growled. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of Dawn. It’s not like she’s a toddler.”

Before Hank could form a reply, a young man stumbled into the room. “H-hello, I’m Ford. I’ll be your waiter this evening.” Since everyone knew what they wanted, including Hank, ordering the group’s food went fast.

Hank waited for Ford to leave before he started the conversation up again. “Buffy, you’re young. You’re unmarried, and since you’re gallivanting around Vegas, I’m going to assume you don’t have a steady job.” He smirked at his oldest child. “Not to mention, I’m Dawn’s father while you’re only her sister. I’m sure the courts will see it my way, if you let it go that far.”

“One of the reasons we’re here in Vegas is that Spike and I are getting married.” Buffy looped her arm through Spike’s arm. “Giles is giving me away. Dawn is my matron of honor. Anya, Willow and Tara are my bridesmaids.”

Spike looked completely astonished for the span of about two seconds. “Yeah, Harris is m’best man.”

“Buffy,” Harris hissed. “What are you doing? You aren’t even ... “ He abruptly stopped speaking.

“Yes, I am,” Buffy hissed in return. “He’s the only one that doesn’t expect me to be all like I was before.”

“Before what?” Hank asked with narrowed eyes. Buffy and her stupid little entourage were hiding something from him. “You better answer me, Buffy Anne Summers, if you know what’s good for you.”

Buffy licked her lips with nervous agitation. “I was in a small accident right after Mom died. I was in a coma for a few months.”

“Even more reason why I should take over Dawn’s care and welfare,” Hank announced. “You were always such an accident prone child, Buffy. What if something you do hurts her?”

“I’m fairly certain we can prove that you do not have Dawn’s best interest in mind, Mr. Summers,” Giles replied. “You haven’t paid child support since Buffy turned eighteen.”

“Your appetizer.” Ford stepped into the room with a tray. On the tray were a tureen of steaming hot soup and a stack of bowls. Ford tripped over his own feet, and the tureen fell directly into Hank’s lap.

Hank leapt to his feet with a pain filled shout. “You fucking clumsy piece of shit,” he screamed at Ford.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hank leapt to his feet with a pain filled shout. “You fucking clumsy piece of shit,” he screamed at Ford.

“Oh my G-god, I’m s-so s-sorry,” Ford stammered. He dropped the tray, and he grabbed a handful of napkins to start cleaning Hank’s pants.

Hank raised his hand into the air. A cruel, unforgiving gleam filled his eyes.

“I suggest you put your hand down right now, Mr. Summers,” Giles’ crisp British accent stopped Hank’s next actions. “If you strike this poor man on purpose for something that is accidental, I will have to take action.”

“That right there is exactly why Dawn is never going to live with you, Hank,” Buffy said. “When we were little, we thought you were the greatest. We thought you were the best dad in the whole universe, but then you changed.” She turned to Giles. “Maybe he’s possessed by a ghost or a demon.”

Hank lowered his hand to glare at Buffy. “Not that bullshit again, Buffy.” In a slow, exaggerated voice, he said, “There are no such things as vampires.”

The bleached blond punk growled at Hank until Buffy laid a hand on the man’s arm, and Hank laughed to himself when the pussy whipped idiot backed down from the fight. “It’s not worth the headache,” he heard his daughter whisper. Hank was still curious what that meant.

“Why doesn’t everyone settle down?” Willow went to Ford’s side. “Nothing is ruined except the soup, but we can get more from the kitchen.”

“Nothing is ruined? Just look at my pants!” Hank gestured at his legs.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get changed, Dad?” Dawn said. “By then, we’ll have some new soup and a new waiter.”

“This clumsy fool better have his ass fired!” Hank stormed out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

When Hank returned in clean pants there was a new waitress and a new tureen of soup. His daughters and their friends were laughing and talking while eating. It irked him that they weren’t taking his threat seriously. So, he started going over his list of business associates in his head.

Then, Hank remembered Buffy asking about whether or not he was possessed by a ghost or a demon. This made him wonder if he could get her declared mentally incompetent or something. After the food was eaten, Hank sat back with a smirk. “I have a friend at Wolfram and Hart. Surely, you’ve heard of them, Buffy?”

“You have a friend at Wolfram and Hart? Really?” Spike raised one eyebrow. He turned to Buffy. “Maybe you were right about him.”

“What did Buffy say?” Dawn leaned forward to ask.

“Let’s just say there is evil…” Spike laid his hand over his heart. “And, then, there is evil. Wolfram and Hart is evil. Anyone who thinks it’s safe and sane to bring Darla ‘out of retirement’ … “

“Darla’s back?” Buffy screeched. “How do you know this?”

“Who’s this Darla person?” Hank asked. Any inadvertent information he could find out about Buffy and her friends would come in handy in proving Buffy’s incompetence.

Spike leaned in to whisper in Buffy’s ear. She gave a slight nod before she answered Hank’s question. “Nobody you need to worry about, Dad. Just someone we used to know from Sunnydale that we thought we’d never hear from again.”

Giles leaned his elbows on the table and folded his fingers together. “Is that how you wish to play this, Mr. Summers? Call in lawyers and drag everyone through the mud?”

“Yes! Yes, it is!” Hank nodded. He was certain he could convince a judge he was a better guardian for Dawn than Buffy and her flighty ways.

“So be it.” Giles pulled a business card from his pocket. “My solicitors will be expecting to hear from you.”

Hank rose to his feet. “I’m going to win this. There’s nothing you can do or say that will change that fact.”

Giles held the business card out to Hank. “You’ll find that we are more resourceful than you could ever imagine, Mr. Summers. Wolfram and Hart doesn’t scare us.”

“Whatever.” Hank rolled his eyes before he snatched the card from the Brit’s hand. Then, he turned and stormed out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

As soon as Hank Summers returned to his room, he was on the phone to his friend at Wolfram and Hart.

“Maitland here.” Lawrence Maitland barked into the phone.

“Hey, Lawrence. It’s Hank. Hank Summers. I was wondering if you still work for Wolfram and Hart.” Hank flipped the business card from Giles over and over to keep his fingers busy. Lawrence always reminded him of Hannibal Lector. Right now, Hank was hoping some of that coldblooded ruthlessness would come in handy in helping him achieve his goals.

“Hank, long time, no hear. Yes, I’m still at good old W.R.H. I even have my own office now.”

“That’s great. I need your expert help. I just learned my ex-wife died, and my twenty year old daughter is taking care of her fifteen year old younger sister.” Hank shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie.

“If I remember correctly, you were quite proud of the fact that you had stopped sending child support payments.”

“You’re a sly old fox. I’m sure you can work around it.” Hank dropped to the bed to remove his shoes. “I’m fairly sure I have information you can use against my daughter. She says she’s here to get married. Get this, Lawrence. Her __


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hank took the phone away from his ear, and he stared at it in astonishment. He couldn’t believe that Maitland had hung up on him. Then, to top it off, how was he able to have his phone disconnected so quickly.

“This is insane.” Hank tossed his phone aside. “Jennifer will know who to call.”

Hank decided to wait up for his errant secretary. He placed a chair and table where he could see Jennifer as soon as she entered the room. Then, he went to the wet bar where he gathered a glass of ice and all the small bottles of alcohol. He put everything on the table, and he poured himself a drink.

Hank sat down in the chair with his eyes glued to the door. He kept topping off his glass, never noticing the growing pile of bottles. He didn’t even realize he had nodded off until his room phone started to ring. “Fuck,” he muttered.

Hank struggled to his feet, and he stumbled across the room to the phone. He answered the ringing instrument of torture with a growl. “Jennifer.”

“This is your 6 a.m. wake up call, Mr. Summers.”

“Fuck. Thanks,” Hank muttered. He dropped the receiver onto its cradle. “Jennifer, are you here?”

Silence answered Hank. 

“Well, fuck a duck.” Hank rubbed a hand over his face. “Where the hell is that bitch?”

The phone rang again, and Hank snatched it up. “Jennifer, where are you?”

“Uh, sorry, dad, it’s just me,” Buffy’s voice floated over the line. “I just wanted to let you know we’re going to the wedding chapel around eleven, if you want to come.” 

“I’ll be there,” Hank grumbled. He fumbled for a pen and paper while Buffy rattled off the name and address of the wedding chapel. “The Chapel of the Hells? What kind of name is that for a wedding chapel? Not very romantic, if you ask me. Do they get much business?”

“No clue,” Buffy replied. “Spike’s friend Clem has a cousin named Clarence who runs the place. It should be a blast.”

“Yeah.” Hank dropped the phone again. He was sure by now that if Jennifer was in the room she would have shown her face. His head throbbed from the alcohol, but it was at an acceptable level. He’d had worse hangovers.

Hank decided to give Jennifer a little bit of time to show up. He went about his morning routine of bathing and dressing. Hank felt vaguely human by the time he picked the phone up for a third time. He dialed the front desk.

“Front desk.”

“Yes, I’m trying to get a hold of my secretary,” Hank said. “She met up with some actress last night. She’s staying here in the hotel.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to give out Ms. Lowell’s room number.”

“Well, I need to speak to my secretary. Can you connect me with the room without telling me the number?” Hank replied. His patience was wearing thin.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that. Ms. Lowell ordered that she not be disturbed for any reason.”

“You don’t understand, I _need_ to speak to my secretary,” Hank raised his voice.

“Do not shout at me, sir. I’m only doing my job. You are more than welcome to leave a message. “

“Never mind.” Hank slammed the down the phone. “I will find her myself, even if I have to knock on every door in the hotel.”

Hank grabbed his tie, and he stormed out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Two and half hours later, a tired and frustrated Hank returned to his room. He was no closer to finding Jennifer than he had been when he left. 

Hank started with the penthouse suites, but it seemed that he ran into one of three problems. The first problem occurred when no one answered the door when he knocked. The second problem was when someone answered, but they had no idea who he was looking for. The third problem was when someone answered, and they were grumpy about it.

One such man had resembled what Hank thought a Sumo wrestler would look like if dressed up in a three piece suit. The man grunted before slamming the door in Hank’s face. He knocked again, but nobody, not even the big man, answered the door again.

Hank heard his hotel door click open. “Oh, good, you’re back, Jennifer,” he said as he turned.

Jennifer swept into the room. “My bags are in the closet, Mako,” she called over her shoulder.

“I’ve been waiting for you for hours.” Hank rushed towards Jennifer. “We’re going to a wedding, and then, we can get married too.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Hank?” Jennifer sidestepped Hank. “I’m quitting. I’ve had a better job offer with better benefits. You’ll find my resignation in your email inbox.”

“No, you can’t.” Hank grabbed Jennifer’s arm. “I won’t let you!”

“Release Miss Helberg’s arm.” A rumbling voice echoed off the hotel room walls.

Hank glanced towards the door. Standing just inside the room was the sumo wrestler looking man that Hank had encountered before. He looked even bigger and more menacing in the smaller room. “Mind your own business,” Hank growled.

“Miss Helberg is my business,” the mountain man said.

“It’s okay, Mako,” Jennifer assured the big man while she pulled her arm from Hank’s grip. “Please gather my things while I deal with my ex. After all, I’ve had years learning how to deal with his bullshit.”

Mako glared at Hank for a few seconds before doing as Jennifer asked. He kept an eye on the other man. Ms. Lowell would be extremely mad if her new playmate turned up with any injuries.

“I don’t think so,” Hank hissed at Mako. “Get out of my room before I call security and tell them you are harassing me and my fiancé.” 

Jennifer stepped away from Hank when he reached for her again. “You better think again, Hankie-poo. I’m not your fiancé or your employee anymore.”

Hank ignored Jennifer’s words. He figured if he just kept talking that sooner or later she would give into his plans. “First thing after Buffy gets married, we have to find a lawyer that can declare her and that bleached blond incompetent. Then, we can get married.”

“Hank,” Jennifer said. “It’s not going to happen the way you have planned. I am not going to marry you. I’m not going to help you find a lawyer. I quit!”

“No, no, no, no. You are not quitting. You’re getting a promotion to wife,” Hank blustered.

Jennifer shook her head. “Find some other sucker, Hank. I’m sure you can find one. Maybe you should ask Starla. She’s always angling to be some man’s slut.”

“If I want to get custody, I need a respectable woman, not a slut,” Hank grumbled. “That woman is you.”

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” Jennifer moved towards the bathroom. She didn’t have very many of her things unpacked. She’d learned long ago that sometimes Hank pissed off his co-workers, and there had been times when the two of them had to leave in a hurry.

“I’ll give you a raise,” Hank said. “Two raises! You’ll be the best paid wife in the state.”

Jennifer turned to give Hank a pointed stare. “You just don’t get it, Hank. I’m not interested in a raise and certainly not in you. Rebecca has offered me the world. I plan on taking her up on that offer. Nothing you can do or say will change my mind.” She waved at Mako. “Never mind, Mako. Rebecca wants to buy me a whole new wardrobe once we get back to Los Angeles. We’ll just start a little early.”

“Of course, Miss Helberg.” Mako dropped Jennifer’s suitcase. He crossed the room to stand beside her.

Before Hank could protest, Jennifer left the room with Mako trailing behind her. He followed them to the door. “This isn’t over!” he shouted down the hall at them.

It pissed Hank off when Jennifer gave him a dismissive wave over her shoulder. He stomped back into the room, and he slammed the door behind him. He kicked Jennifer’s abandoned suitcase, causing it to careen across the room.

When Hank glanced at his watch, he realized it was time to meet up with Buffy and her friends. He was not looking forward to this travesty and fakery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Hank found himself standing in front of a tacky, miniature replica of Elvis Presley’s Memphis, Tennessee, mansion. Things turned weird when the double doors burst open, and a man with the worst skin condition that Hank had ever seen stumbled out into the sunlight. Hank cringed at the sight of the saggy, wrinkly flaps of skin. He was so stunned by the man’s medical issues that he failed to notice the sparkly Elvis costume.

“Clem! Clem! It’s Clarence. Pick up the damned phone,” the man said into his cell phone. “They’re here. They’re really here. The Slayer and Spike are here in my wedding chapel!”

_The Slayer? What the fuck is a Slayer?_ Hank thought as he recognized his daughter’s punk boyfriend’s name. _I’m getting the bottom of this bullshit or my name ain’t Hank Aaron Summers._ He pushed past Clarence to enter the chapel.

Hank swept through the lobby into the main sanctuary room. There he found Buffy’s male friends waiting for the bride and the females to appear.

Harris glanced at Hank before returning his attention back to Spike. “I’m agreeing to this on one condition.”

“Yeah, what’s that, Harris?” Spike grunted.

“I get to be the one to tell Angel that you and Buffy got married,” Harris chortled.

A tall, statuesque woman swept out a side door. “Where is Clarence? The bride is ready.” She shooed Spike and Harris towards the front of the chapel. “You two go stand over there. We’re about to begin. Mr. Giles, would you please go escort Miss Summers?”

“But, I’m her father,” Hank spluttered.

“I don’t know anything about that, sir,” the woman replied. “I’m only relaying what Miss Summers said.”

Harris let out a scoffing sound. “I don’t know why your nose is all out of joint. You’re not much of a father. Hell, my father’s better than you, and he’s a fucking drunk son of a bitch.”

Hank stepped towards Harris with an irritated look on his face. He raised a hand.

“Go ahead, hit me. I’ll have you arrested for assault.” Harris stood his ground.

“Let him hit you, Xander,” Spike said with a smirk.

“What?” Xander turned to look at Spike.

“Yes, plenty of witnesses,” Giles replied with his own malicious grin. “Even an impartial one in Miss Kohn. My barrister will be most pleased with something so visceral to work with.”

“Oh, good plan.” Harris turned back to Hank. “Yes, please, give us ammunition.”

Miss Kohn shook her head while she muttered under her breath, “Families.” She spoke louder with her next sentence. “Well, we don’t have time for this right now. Mr. Giles, go to the side room. Mr. Harris, escort the groom to the front while I go and find our lost minister.”

Hank glared at the woman before she waved him towards the pews. He sat down to wait for Buffy to appear. Giles left the room by way of one of the side doors while Buffy’s fiancée and her friend went to the front of the room. In a few moments the odd looking Elvis impersonator hurried by Hank. 

After a few seconds a musical rendition of Bette Midler’s ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ started up over the overhead stereo system. Hank was confused when Harris let out a snort while he smacked Spike’s arm. There was more to that story, he was sure of it.

Buffy appeared at the back of the sanctuary with her arm tucked in Giles’ arm, and behind them stood Dawn and the other two females. She ignored Hank while she glided up the aisle with a determined look on her face.

Once Giles had handed Buffy off to the bleached blond punk, the weird skinned minister started to speak. “William Jamison and Buffy Anne Summers, today you are surrounded by your family and friends, all of whom are gathered to witness your marriage, and to share in the joy of this occasion.

“You love each other,” Clarence paused. “This is not the end result, but rather the beginning. Love begins when two people join together to form a unity of souls. It is a new direction which requires acceptance, patience, and understanding.

“Acceptance for the differences, for the struggles and the hardships, but most of all for change and growth. Patience to allow love to evolve to its full potential; a potential reached only when love is given time, warmth, and care. Understanding is the wisdom of maturity; the combination of patience and acceptance.

“William and Buffy, these are the things you will need to bring into your marriage. They are your gifts to each other. We are gathered together in the presence of these witnesses to join this man and this woman in the bonds of marriage. Having seriously considered the nature of the marriage bond, and the harmony and mutual love which should prevail throughout the honorable estate, these two persons come now to be joined therein.”

Hank blocked out the rest of the ceremony while he let his mind drift over how to solve the problem of his daughter’s custody. He needed to find a lawyer and a stupid woman to marry. There had to be a stupid woman somewhere in Vegas that would marry him.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Clarence finished. “You may kiss the bride.”

Hank rolled his eyes when Buffy leaned up to kiss her new husband.

Harris rubbed his hand together. “Let’s party like it’s 1999.”

Spike pulled away from Buffy’s kiss. “How about we party like it’s 1899?”

“Did they even have parties in 1899?” Willow, the redhead, asked.

“Well, there was this one time …” Spike started to say.

Buffy smacked on the arm. “None of your horror stories, Spike.”

Hank rose to his feet. “I have some phone calls to make, I’ll meet you at … ?”

“The Carousal Carnival,” Clarence leaned forward to speak. He pulled a business card from his pocket, and he held it out towards Hank. “My sister owns the place. She’s made it family friendly.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Hank surged forward to grab the card before he marched out of the chapel.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hank sat in the Tropicana casino lounge. His phone lay silent on the bar in front of him. Hank had called every lawyer he knew, only to find out none of them would talk to him. He hummed under his breath while he planned his next move.

"Bad news travels fast," Hank muttered while he waved the bartender over. "Shot of J.D. on the rocks."

"I couldn't help but hear your woes." The handsome man next to Hank whirled his seat around to face Hank. "Lee DeMarco. Proprietor of all you see."

"Hank Summers." Hank sneered at the man pouring his drink.

"Well, Hank." Lee held out a welcoming hand. "It's good to meet you."

Hank glanced down at DeMarco's hand, and he snorted. "What are you selling, Lee?" 

"Not a thing," DeMarco declared. "But I am giving you a chance to win a million dollars." He laid a poker chip on the bar between them.

Hank looked down at the chip. "I don't need money. I need a lawyer."

The conversation was interrupted by Hank's ringing phone. He glanced at the caller I.D.

It was his newest silent partner's number flashing across the screen.

Hank picked up his phone. "Excuse me," he said to DeMarco before he hit the green 'SEND' button. "Farmer, I need your help."

"Yeah, I heard," Farmer's Oklahoman twang filtered through the line. "You're really making waves over at Wolfram and Hart. What's up?"

Hank let out a sigh of relief. After all the hang ups with the lawyers he'd tried to contact, he was glad _someone_ was willing to talk to him. "I found out my ex-wife died. My older daughter has custody of the younger one, and I want custody. You know how the old man favors the family man."

"Sounds easy enough to fix," Farmer drawled. "A young woman on her own rarely compares to an established businessman."

Hank grunted. "Buffy's not exactly alone. She's got a bunch of friends and a brand new punk of a husband named Spike. Well, William Jamison is his real name."

"You just need a very good lawyer," Farmer replied.

"No, we need one that'll talk to us," Hank snorted. "I think Maitland at Wolfram and Hart put the word out not to talk to me."

"Yeah, he would," Farmer agreed. "He's always been a real asshole."

Hank felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned to find DeMarco eavesdropping.

"I can get you a lawyer. No questions asked," DeMarco said in a low voice.

"Who's that talking?" Farmer asked. 

"Some guy named DeMarco. He claims to be the owner of the casino I'm in at the moment," Hank answered.

"Really? Let me talk to him."

Hank handed the phone to DeMarco. He turned away to flag down the bartender for another drink. He glanced at his watch. It had been an hour since he'd left the wedding chapel. Hank knew he needed to meet up with Buffy and Dawn soon.

Hank knocked back the shot that the bartender poured him. DeMarco turned his swivel chair back around to face Hank.

"You gonna stick around for a while?" the casino owner asked. "Your partner and I have struck up a deal that'll get you use of my lawyer."

Hank shook his head. "I have to meet Buffy at The Carousal Carnival."

"I know the place," DeMarco said. "He'll meet you there."

Hank nodded while he got to his feet. He scowled to hide his growing glee. His whole plan was finally going the right way.

"Before you go, Mr. Summers, I want to make sure you take this with you. Never know when it might come in handy."

Hank automatically caught the poker chip now sailing in his direction. "I told you I didn't want it."

"Consider it a little token of my good faith. Remember, it buys the holder a chance at winning a million dollars at my private game." DeMarco looked pleased with himself. 

"Thanks. I think." Hank slipped the chip into his coat pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*  
Hank looked up at the building, and he grimaced. Bright lights and gaudy colors assaulted his senses. Strange music poured out of hidden speakers. Posters proclaimed that the establishment had the most unique entertainment in Las Vegas.

"What the hell is this," Hank muttered. He was sure by the end of the evening he'd need a handful of aspirin or a stiff drink.

Or both.

At the same time.

Hank stepped inside. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Several tables of people who appeared to be in costume were hid away in shadowy alcoves. If Hank squinted and tilted his head in just the right direction, he was sure more than one of them had to be dressed like a Klingon. Why on earth did anyone let their kid dress like a space alien anyway? 

 

_Weird_ , Hank thought. Finally, he found Buffy's table. The place looked less and less savory by the minute. Kids in a bar were against the law.

Oh, the fun Hank was going to have with this. Buffy was going down.

The group sat near the middle of the club where the entertainment was meant to appear. A spotlight and center ring dominated the room. More bright lights and gaudy colors echoed the outside decorations.

Hank made his way towards Buffy's table. When he neared, he realized he needed that stiff drink sooner rather than later. Spending time with Buffy and her lame friends, even if it was justified, would try his patience. He waved at the waitress.

A man, who distinctly resembled the Elvis impersonator preacher, leapt into the middle of spotlight. "Ladies and gentlemen. Boys and girls," he shouted. "I'm the great and magnificent Troy, your ringmaster for the evening. Tonight, for your viewing pleasure, I present Ms. Maty Ru and her trained goats. Give a warm round of applause for Maty!"

A smattering of applause sounded through the club.

Hank sat down at the table where he ignored Buffy and her friends. He kept his eye on the door while he watched for DeMarco's lawyer friend.

"Oh my God," Harris snorted when he saw the entertainment. "This is priceless."

Hank looked to see what had Harris' attention. He held back a gasp at the sight.

In the middle ring were five goats wearing saddles.

Sidesaddles.

Perched on the sidesaddles were five male midgets.

Wearing dresses.

There were cross-dressing midgets on goats. Who knew that was even a thing?

The waitress appeared at Hank's side. "My name is Ginga. I'll be your server tonight. What can I get you?"

"The strongest alcohol in the place," Hank said.

Ginga gave Hank a skeptical look. "Are you sure, sir? Our strongest is pretty darned strong."

"Of course, I'm sure, you stupid wench," Hank snapped. He ignored the glares thrown his way from the females at his table.

"Okay, you're the customer, man." Ginga rolled her eyes. "Now, don't say I didn't warn ya."

Hank turned to Buffy. "My lawyer will be here in a few. Then, we'll see who's the best man here, missy."

"Pretty sure I was the best man," Harris chuckled while he elbowed Spike.

"Really, Dad?" Buffy shook her head in disbelief. "Living with you isn't in Dawn's best interest. What are you planning on doing with her when you're off chasing your secretary around the hotel room?"

"Just give it up, _Dad_ ", Dawn hissed at Hank. "Even if you somehow manage to get custody, I won't cooperate."

"You will, young lady, or I'll have someone dig up something on each and every one of your sister's friends." Hank grinned. He was sure he had won the round. "I will ruin them all. What would a judge say about Buffy's little stint in the crazy house?"

Giles rose to his feet. "I do believe a call to my solicitor would be a wise course of action. My past is an open book. Yes, I ran with a wild crowd during my university days. We did some things that weren't very smart."

"But who hasn't, Giles?" Harris commented. "I partied with the wrong crowd in high school. We're pretty sure they ate the principal."

"Here's your drink." Ginga placed a bright blue drink in front of Hank. "The Drunken Goat is the strongest drink in the joint."

Hank hummed before he grabbed the glass for a long swallow. "This is your strongest drink?" he snorted. "It tastes like blue Kool-Aid. You people are wimps. Just keep 'em comin', sweetie." 

Giles smirked at Hank before he leaned down to whisper in Spike's ear. Hank had no clue what was said, but he was sure it wasn't anything good. He hoped the lawyer that DeMarco was sending over arrived soon. Then, the older Brit strolled towards the entrance with his cell phone in hand.

Hank reached into his pocket, and his fingers brushed DeMarco's poker chip. Maybe he could bribe one of Buffy's friends to turn on her. He eyed them while he tried to decide which ones suited his idea the best.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Maty Ru shouted from his seat upon his goat. "For my next feat, I will need two volunteers from the audience."

Willow and Tara touched hands before raising their other hands.

"Ah, the two pretty ladies in the front row," Maty announced.

Willow and Tara giggled as they jumped to their feet, and they joined Maty and his goats.

"I need to go to the bathroom, Buffy. Come with?" Dawn turned pleading eyes on her sister.

Buffy huffed. "Sure, Dawnie."

"I'll go too." Anya took a fast gulp of her drink. "You can explain why we all have to go pee at the same time. It's really very odd, you know."

Hank grinned to himself. There were only two people left at the table. He was pretty sure one of them would turn on Buffy for a chance at a million dollars. He flipped the chip onto the table. "That chip is worth one million dollars at the Tropicana casino. It's all yours if you help me get custody of Dawn."

Xander and Spike glance at each other before turning back to Hank. 

"Wow, $500,000 each is a lot of money, Spike," Xander said. "I could do a lot with that much money."

"Me too, mate. Wouldn't be worth it though." Spike leaned back in his chair.

"Because you _love_ Buffy," Hank sneered. He waved his now empty glass at the waitress.

"I do. She has a way of making a man want to be better."

Xander nodded in agreement with Spike's words. "Yeah, same with Anya."

"Oh my God, you tried to bribe them," Dawn gasped. She stared in horror at Hank. "I just came back for my purse, and I heard every word. You know, Dad, I wish ... "

"No!" Spike and Xander yelped at the same time.

From the next table, a woman's voice said, "Go on, sweetie. What do you wish?"

"Oh no you don't, Hallie." Anya approached from the direction of the bathroom. "Buffy would be really mad if you did anything to her sister."

"We're havin' a party. Buffy gets really brassed off when people crash her little shindigs," Spike drawled. He gave Hallie a close look. "Cecily? Is that you?"

Hallie tilted her head in confusion. "William?"

Hank had a few more names to add to his research list. His phone beeped, and when he looked at the message, it simply said 'here'. Hank looked towards the front door. A man in a suit, and holding a briefcase, stood there with his phone out.

Hank ignored Buffy's friends. On the way across the room, he grabbed his next blue cocktail off the Ginga's tray.

If Hank had looked back, he would have seen his progress across the club watched by more than one set of eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Laughter from the man calling himself Farmer echoed through the room. What a way to get some petty revenge! He dialed an old, familiar number.

"Hey, Angel. Lindsey McDonald here. You'll never guess who got married to whom in Vegas today ..."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Cordelia and Wesley stared at each other with wide flabbergasted eyes as Angel stormed out of the hotel.

"What the hell is going on?" Gunn asked. His confusion showed on his face.

"Wow, Buffy and Spike. Spike and Buffy," Cordelia said with a low whistle. "Totally didn't see that one coming."

"Just how does McDonald know about them?" Wesley wondered aloud.

"I know who Buffy is," Gunn said. "Who's Spike?"

"Oh, you haven't met him, have you?" Cordelia snorted. "He's the fourth in the gruesome quad. You've met Darla who made Angelus. Angelus made that crazy bitch Drusilla. Dru made Spike."

"William the Bloody," Wes replied. "Most of the Council's information on him is very conflicting. However, having dealt with Penn, I'm fairly certain I know the reason."

Cordelia nodded. "A Watcher mistook Spike and Penn for being one in the same? You really think so?"

"I do." Wesley scratched his ear. "I hope Angel doesn't decide to drive to Vegas to look for Buffy."

Angel slammed back into the hotel. "I have no plans to go to Vegas to see Buffy. Or Spike for that matter."

"Why?" Cordelia and Wesley asked at the same time. They each thought that maybe Angel had finally gotten over Buffy and the star-crossed romance. Cordelia's thoughts turned more personal for a few seconds.

Angel shrugged. "Spike already called me. Hank, Buffy's father, has finally showed interest in Mrs. Summers' death."

"What is Hank doing?" Cordelia asked. She vaguely remembered the man from Buffy's first year in Sunnydale.

"He's trying to take Dawn away from Buffy," Angel stated. "Spike called to get some funds transferred."

"Spike has money?" Cordelia asked in astonishment. "I thought it was all your money."

"He wasn't rich, but if he hadn't been turn, he wouldn't have had to work for a living." Angel moved to the weapons case. "We have a case to finish up."

"Okay, okay." Gunn raised a hand. "So, why did you storm out when Lindsey called if it was no surprise?"

"Lindsey just pushes my buttons, okay," Angel growled. "Now get a move on."

Wesley edged by Angel to grab an axe. "Right behind you, Angel."

"I'll just go check on Connor," Cordelia replied. "He should be up from his nap."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Hank and DeMarco's lawyer found a small alcove to slip into where they could discuss Hank's business. They seated themselves at the table.

"Ed Polson." The lawyer handed Hank a glossy black card with blood red lettering. "Mr. DeMarco wished for me to help you in exchange for certain services."

"Certain services" Hank squinted at the card. He blinked a few times while he tried to make out the words. That blue drink the waitress gave him must have been more potent than he first realized.

"Yes. Someday he will ask something of you, and you will do it with no questions asked," Ed replied.

"Like what?"

"It doesn't matter. You will do it." Ed smirked. "Now to the business at hand."

"My ex-wife died." Hank slurped his drink. He ignored the disgusted look on Ed's face. "My sixteen year old daughter is in the custody of her older sister. I want custody. It's just good business sense, you see."

"I don't see a problem with that," Ed said. He opened his briefcase to remove some paperwork.

Buffy's friend, Giles, appeared beside the table. He handed Ed a card. "My solicitor awaits your call." Then, he sauntered back to Buffy's table.

Hank glanced over to see Buffy having an intense conversation with 'Hallie'. He had no idea what was going on with the two females, but he figured that since Hallie probably wasn't a lawyer, he had nothing to worry about. He turned his attention back to Ed.

As Hank and Ed discussed the best approach for going about a custody battle, Hank ordered a couple more of the blue drinks. Soon, he felt well lubricated, and things looked a bit hazy around the edges.

"I gotta hit the head," Hank muttered. "Nahahahaha." He clapped a hand over his mouth to cover the odd sound that erupted from his lips. 

Ed gave him a strange look. "We'll sign the paperwork as soon as you're back."

Hank staggered off towards the bathroom, slightly worried about the urge to make certain sounds. "Nahahahaha," he bleated again as he neared his destination. "Get out of my way," he snarled at the woman coming out of the bathroom.

"Whatever," the woman said. "I should have tried harder to get the Slayer to let her sister wish vengeance towards you.

Hank ignored the woman while he pushed open the door into the men's room. Once inside, he realized how dizzy he was feeling. He lurched towards the nearest stall. Hank fell to his knees, and he smacked his head on the metal divider by accident. Behind him the door swished open.

"Oh, there you are," a gravelly voice said. "I was wondering where you'd wandered off to."

Hank flopped down on the ground, and he turned to look at the person behind him. He grimaced when he saw the cross-dressing midget from the floorshow. The only thing missing was the short man's goat. "What do you want?" he demanded while ignoring the rising nausea.

The midget stepped towards him, and he leaned in to pull at the skin around Hank's left eye. He peered at it, and he said in a cryptic voice. "Shouldn't be long now."

Hank tried to move, but he found that his limbs didn't respond right. "What the hell was in those damned blue drinks?" he slurred.

The midget straightened back up while he made a sound low in his throat. He stared at Hank as if he was waiting for something.

Hank saw the darkness descend on his mind, and he knew nothing more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Hank's rise to consciousness was slow and uncomfortable, and his head pounded in time with his heartbeat. He really shouldn't have drank that last blue cocktail. He knew he'd lost his pants somewhere. There was a warm breeze blowing across his balls. However, for the life of him, he couldn't remember parting with them, unless it was in the men's room. That's the last place he remembered being.

In the distance Hank heard Spanish speaking children playing. For a moment, he considered rolling over to call the front desk of the hotel to make a noise complaint, but the thought of moving made his head pound even more and his stomach lurch with nausea.

_What the hell happened?_ Hank thought. He found it worrisome that he couldn't remember anything after meeting ... was that a cross-dressing midget that had cornered him in the bathroom.

That's when Hank realized how scratchy and prickly his bed felt. "Nahahahaha," he groaned. _What the hell? That weird noise was coming out of his mouth again._

"Senor Ru, su cabra esta despierto," a young boy's voice called out near Hank's head.

Hank groaned again. "Nahahahaha." _What the hell?_ He leapt to his opened his eyes, and the world went crazy. None of the colors were right; some were very bright and some didn't show up at all. Hank leapt to his feet, and he realized he wasn't one two legs.

He was on four legs.

There was something wrong here.

For a few moments, he was sure that he'd be rescued. Jennifer was sure to be looking for him. Then, he remembered.

"Ah, perfect." Maty jumped onto the fence, and he looked over the railing at Hank. 

"Nahahahaha! Nahahahaha! Nahahahaha!" Hank bleated at the top of his lungs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Hank Aaron Summers had no idea how he ended up in a small Mexican village without his pants and in the company of cross dressing midgets riding on goats while his secretary-slash-lover was off being wooed by a famous Hollywood starlet.

And he was one of the blasted goats.


End file.
